


Bravo

by blackbirdxfly



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: First Time, Hints of subspace, Interviews, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbirdxfly/pseuds/blackbirdxfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted as a comment fic at the <a href="http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com/925.html>Pinto%20Kink%20Meme</a>%20over%20at%20LiveJournal,%20for%20the%20following%20prompt:%0A%0A">Pinto Kink Meme</a>, for the following prompt:</p><p> <i>Chris has a major praise kink and Zach is happy to indulge. Bonus points if it's a slow build where Zach starts to clue in when he compliments Chris on set or in interviews and sees how pleased he is and starts doing it more often just to get a reaction. And then it eventually leads to sexy times of course.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bravo

**Author's Note:**

> I've never given writing a real shot before, not to mention writing porn, but this has been my favorite pairing to read for a while now, and the kink meme looked like a lot of fun. I sort of experimented between POV's just to get a feel of which I'd be more comfortable writing and I don't know how that'll sit with everyone, but....okay, I'm rambling from being nervous about posting this here, so I'm gonna leave it here and runaway now.

They're just wrapping up an interview when the interviewer bids Zach good luck on his Broadway debut. “Good luck to you on Broadway! I cannot wait to see that production.” Turning to Chris, she says, “I'd love to see you on Broadway!”

Zach grins. He knows that Chris has been dying to get his hands on some stage work for a while. For both of them, theatre was the starting point. For Zach, it's the end goal. It's where his roots are. “He'll be there, he'll be there,” he assures the interviewer. “He won't be far behind, that's for sure.”

Just as she's getting up, Zach catches Chris's expression and sees that he's smiling to himself, not unlike a kid who's just passed his test, with a slight blush to his cheeks. It looks like he's having a private moment to himself. Before Zach has a chance to speculate, Chris snaps out of it and gives an awkward cough. “Coffee?” Chris asks, titling his head towards the door.

Zach realizes they have a fifteen minute break before the next interview and, yeah, he could really do with a top-up of caffeine to his system right now. Nodding, he gets up, stretching his arms over his head and groaning when he feels a particularly tight knot in his shoulder. Suddenly, he feels a warm hand giving that shoulder a light rub and a squeeze. “Come on,” Chris says. “I'm starving.”

Zach rolls his eyes but follows Chris out.

“I hope they have bibs prepared for you this time.”

“Hey!”

–---------------------------------------------------

The following day, the interviews feel even longer and the questions are starting to sound the same – especially when Zach's body feels as though it's in a permanent state of jet-lag. It probably is. Still, he tries not to sound like his answers are repeated or like he's talking about shaving his eyebrows, and the methods of, for the ten thousandth time. Even though he kind of is, if you count all the press from the first movie and all the interviews he's done in between.

But then this interviewer – a tiny, adorable girl representing some Chinese website – asks the pair what they like about each other. _This is interesting_ , Zach thinks. Her questions so far hadn't been so focused on the Kirk and Spock dynamic, as much as they were on the relationship between Chris and Zach themselves. 

“I think Christopher is very confident, also very intelligent,” he tells her honestly. “He trusts his instincts, I would say, in a way that's really refreshing.” And it's true. Playing Spock didn't feel like as hard work as it should have been – even though it meant waking up at the asscrack of dawn every morning for half a year to have tiny little hairs individually glued onto his would-be eyebrows – and Zach knew it had a lot to do with the people he was working so closely with, Chris in particular. They always seemed to know what the other needed both professionally and personally. It was simple.

Mostly.

Zach looks over to Chris and sees that he has his arms folded, chin resting on a big hand that's covering half his face. He's smiling bashfully to the floor, attempting to hide a blush that has formed and is threatening to go down his neck as well. 

He gently prods Chris with his elbow, prompting him to give his half of the response. _Interesting_ , Zach thinks again.

The rest of the day is spent doing interview after interview, but Zach feels more alert. He's started throwing around compliments about Chris, even without being asked, just to gauge Chris's reaction to each one. 

By the end of the day, Zach notices that Chris is wearing his grin so wide it looks like it might fall off his face along with the beard he's so proud of ('I grow it myself!' he tells people). Chris also has readjusted his position in his chair so that he's sitting slightly hunched over with a leg crossed over the other. It doesn't take long for Zach to realise Chris is trying to conceal a semi.

Once they're given the green light to leave, Chris gets up in a rush and lightly punches Zach on the shoulder. “Man, I really need a shower. I'll catch you tonight? Simon's taking us to that club.”

Zach nods, casually pretending to check his phone and waving Chris off, although he's already halfway out the door, by the sounds of it.

_Very interesting, indeed._

–---------------------------------------------------

Chris is comfortably buzzed and enjoying the scene in the club from their little booth; Simon's chosen a good pick for them. They had no trouble with paparazzi during their arrival, and so far, there hasn't been so much as a fan asking for his autograph. He watches Zoe and Alice dancing a few feet away and it makes him smile. Feeling bold, he leans into Zach. “Wanna dance?” he asks loudly.

Zach gives him a bewildered look. “I'm sorry, did you just say _dance_?”

Chris nods and starts to pull Zach up with him by the elbow. “Come on, I'll show you some of my dad's moves.”

He hears Zach snort behind him and knows Zach's following.

In all honesty, Chris has no idea what he's doing. All he knows is that he's missed this. Too much, even. It's been a long time since he's gotten to properly spend time with Zach, like they're living out of each other's pockets, and he doesn't know when the next time will be. It took them four fucking years to get around filming again. He'd always been drawn to Zach, drawn to his intelligence, his off-beat humor, his intensity – and for once, Chris is trying not to think too much about it.

They dance with the girls at first, Zoe showing off her moves and using Zach as her partner while Chris does his terrible version of dancing, the one he saves for his List of People it's Okay to Embarrass Myself in Front of, Alice's laughter spurring him on. Soon, Zoe and Alice tire and need refills, so Chris and Zach end up in a dimly-lit corner, still swaying to the music, slightly tucked away from the crowd.

Chris feels a hand on his side and all of a sudden, he's being pulled further into Zach's space. They're moving against each other now, and Chris can't remember the last time there was this little distance between them – at least not with this much intent. It makes him heady.

“This okay?” Zach asks.

Chris nods and presses himself harder against Zach. It makes Zach groan and Chris wants to do it again. He should be feeling nervous, he distantly thinks. He should be worried about a number of things, but he can't seem to remember what they are at the moment, so surely they can't be _that_ important. 

“Fuck,” Zach breathes in his ear. “You're gorgeous like this, you know that, Pine?”

They're so close now that Chris can't see Zach's face. He shakes his head, moaning quietly into the crook of Zach's neck. Zach smells good. Different. Masculine compared to any of the girls Chris has been with before, but also darker and more dangerous. Chris finds he likes the rush it sends down his spine.

He feels Zach's hands on his ass, grinding their hips together. It's dirty and it's _amazing_. They aren't even dancing to the beat of the music anymore. Somewhere along the way, they'd started moving to a rhythm of their own. Chris is fully hard before even having registered that he was hard at all before.

“I love watching you have a good time,” Zach tells him, his voice gruff. 

“Yeah?” Chris gasps, conflicted between rubbing up against Zach and pushing his ass out further into Zach's hands.

“You're beautiful when you're in your element. I love when we're working and you're on it and you're perfect and you're Chris Pine. But this – I love this, when you're carefree and you don't give a fuck. You're just you and it's sexy.”

The incessant thumping of the bass isn't so loud anymore. It feels like an echo in the back of Chris's head, and all he can hear is Zach's voice next to his ear telling him good things; good things that wouldn't usually come out of a sober Zach's mouth. Good things that aren't even about the work they share anymore.

Chris presses his face harder into Zach's neck. He wants to return the words, wants to tell Zach all the amazing things he thinks of him, but he's too busy trying to gain friction.

Eventually, Zach slows them down, and Chris is about to complain, but Zach asks, “Wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?”

Chris nods, grateful that one of them has the good sense to relocate before things escalate any more.

–---------------------------------------------------

In the cab on the way back to the hotel, Zach grows uncharacteristically quiet. He even does that thing where he whips out his phone and becomes intrigued by whatever breaking news is being posted on Instagram.

Chris glances at the driver and sees that the cabbie is clearly too occupied to give a shit about them, listening intently to what sounds to be the results to a pretty important soccer game on the radio. Reaching over, Chris brushes his fingers over the knuckles of Zach's free hand.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Where'd you go just then?”

He sees Zach open his mouth, ready to give an inauthentic response, but they both know it'd be futile for Zach to pretend like he doesn't know what Chris means.

Zach shakes his head. “That was dumb of me. I wasn't thinking. Look, I just thought earlier that–”

“I thought you said you weren't thinking,” Chris giggles, evidently still pleasantly woozy, though whether it's remnants from the drinks or the dancing, he isn't sure.

Zach sighs exasperatedly and turns to face Chris properly. “I'm serious, Chris! We've still got the rest of this press tour and another movie to film, at least, and we haven't even discussed this. Hell, I didn't even know you...” Zach trails off, like he doesn't know how to finish. “Or maybe you don't. I don't know. Plus,” he adds, “you've been drinking.”

It's odd seeing Zach like this, so unsure of himself. Chris rests his hand on top of Zach's and laces their fingers together. It feels natural; somehow, Chris isn't surprised. “I've had a few drinks,” he agrees, “but I'm not _drunk_ drunk, alright? I'm not out of it enough to not be able to say no when I mean no.”

Zach is staring back at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm not sure I'd want to say no to anything when it comes to you anyway,” Chris says more quietly. His cheeks feel hot and he's painfully aware that they're in the back of a cab, in London, and this probably isn't the best place for that little piece of admission, or the conversation at hand entirely. Still, it seemed Zach needed to hear it, so Chris doesn't break eye contact to look out the window like the squirmish part inside him wants to.

Chris isn't sure where this spell of surety is coming from. All he knows is that getting Zach on board with him is important right now, and nothing feels better than when Zach thinks one of his ideas are good.

“So in case you're having any doubts right now, Zach, I am consenting. This is me consenting.”

Chris sees Zach studying his face, like he's looking for leftover traces of drunken brashness or evidence of extra stupidity. Chris waits. Zach apparently doesn't find any, though, and he squeezes Chris's fingers. “Okay,” he says finally.

“Okay.”

–---------------------------------------------------

The moment they make it to Zach's room (because it's closer, and farthest away from J.J.'s room, but mostly because Zach insists), Chris latches onto Zach again, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Zach lets himself fall back onto the mattress and Chris crawls on top of him. 

“Just in case your propriety decides to speak for you – for us – again,” Chris says, by way of explanation.

Zach wants to point out that it's not just about consent. There's a whole set of other issues to consider – like their friendship, their working relationship, the fact that they don't even live remotely close to each other anymore, _the fact that Chris had never mentioned being into guys, let alone Zach_ – but some part of him (read: his dick) is preventing him from saying all that stuff, just like how that same part drove him to say all the other stuff he didn't mean to say at the club. The stuff that he hadn't intended to say, but soon realized he'd actually meant.

Chris lifts a hand to Zach's face, thumb grazing his bottom lip. He huffs out a laugh. “I can't believe we haven't kissed before.” His eyes meet Zach's and Zach can see, in the bright lighting of the hotel room, that Chris actually is pretty clear-headed right now. There's genuine wonder, and nervousness, in his voice. “Can I? Kiss you, I mean.”

Zach nods, because anything else at this juncture would simply be pointless. They'd probably end up here all over again, doing the same thing on some other night, in some other city, after visiting some other club, anyway.

When their lips finally meet, it's tentative. Zach's hands come up to Chris's hips of their own volition. Chris's mouth is warm, his lips chapped, which Zach discovers he surprisingly likes, and when Chris pushes into his mouth, he tastes remnants of alcohol on Chris's tongue. He feels Chris's thumb pushing his chin downward to open up his mouth so that he can kiss Zach deeper. 

“Oh, my _God_ ,” Chris moans, eyes fluttering shut, and somehow managing to sound accusatory.

There's a voice in the back of Zach's mind screaming, _'How the fuck was I supposed to know?! How the flying FUCK was I supposed to know you'd like this? That you'd be like this??'_ but the words still aren't coming out. Like if he says anything, he's going to wake to find that he'd fallen asleep during an interview and being scolded by his publicist was going to have to be his new main agenda for the day.

–---------------------------------------------------

It doesn't take long for the both of them to shed their outfits, roughly making out on the bed. Then, Chris is underneath Zach, hands clutching fistfuls of the crisp white sheets beneath them while Zach leisurely strokes his cock with his left hand. Chris is so hard, dick dribbling, and there's the most wonderful chaos ringing in his head. He feels like he's running a marathon without a real destination other than needing something – _anything_ – more to happen, like, right fucking now.

“Zach, I- I-” Chris chokes up a little, not knowing what he wants. It makes him want to apologize.

“Shhh, you don't have to say anything, unless you want to stop, alright? Otherwise, just lie still and be good for me, okay?” Chris tries to open his eyes so he can look at Zach, and he's immediately comforted. He's never met this version of Zach before, they've never hung out, but somehow, somewhere in the back of his head he knows this Zach and he's glad they're meeting now. There's kindness and concern in Zach's eyes, a certain confidence in the hand which is still working Chris's dick, and it takes nothing for Chris to nod his response. Somewhere between them getting naked and Chris losing the ability of speech, Zach has found his footing and Chris has never wanted to hand everything over to Zach as much as he does now.

Keeping a steady fist on Chris's cock, Zach gets on his knees to reach for his pants, pulling out a travel-size bottle of lube. Chris doesn't really get an opportunity to feel uneasy about how else this night might have gone for Zach, because a cool drizzle of gel hits his dick, making him yelp, and he belatedly notices the two wet fingers circling his hole ever so lightly. 

Zach must notice Chris's panic by the way his dick wilts slightly, because he bends over to press a kiss to one of Chris's bent knees, though he keeps his fingers where they are. He looks at Chris questioningly, left hand pausing so that Chris can focus. Before Zach can even ask, Chris whispers, “ _Please_ ,” because, goddamn it, he still wants more, new as this might be to him.

The small yet genuine smile Zach gives him is reassuring. “You have no idea how amazing you look right now.” Zach's voice is hushed like the words are precious. Chris can only moan shyly in return. “Have you done this before?” Chris feels a light increase in pressure on his hole, so he knows what Zach's asking.

“F-Fingers.” He stutters as he feels Zach's hand beginning to stroke his dick again. “Mine,” he clarifies shakily, because all traces of eloquence have gone out the window for him at this point.

Zach hums, apparently a little amused by the thought, as he begins to push a slick finger into Chris.

“Yeah,” Zach breathes as Chris lets him in. “Relax for me, just like that.”

–---------------------------------------------------

Zach's up to two fingers when he hears a whine. 

“I could come right now,” Chris gives him a desperate warning. He stops touching Chris's dick, but gives his balls a light squeeze before spreading some of the lube on himself. 

“Just one more finger,” he promises. Chris makes that noise again, his whine a little more frustrated this time. He's flushed all over, cock smearing pre-come across his belly, making Zach more than a little crazy with want. Zach presses a third finger into Chris, because he's trying to be careful and patient, but fuck if he has to wait any longer. Chris starts writhing, trying to fuck himself down onto Zach's fingers.

A sudden sense of fondness washes over Zach because this is just so like Chris – taking a mile when presented with an inch. He was the same way when they'd first met: relentlessly eager to fit himself into Zach's life by expanding their social circle of common friends, inviting himself to Zach's over for post-gym showers and snacks, and never failing to initiate a meet-up whenever he was in New York, even after Zach had moved away. Zach hadn't realized just how available Chris had been making himself for him the whole time.

He finds himself expressing that fondness when he gently says, “Chris, hold still. That's all you need to do for me right now, baby.” Zach winces, thinking that calling Chris 'baby' is probably taking it a step too far, but judging by the way Chris groans and obediently stills his body with his eyes shut tight, he's not about to complain. 

Carefully, Zach pulls his fingers out. Chris makes a little noise, but waits and watches with dazed interest as Zach gives himself a couple tugs and gets a condom on. Chris's tongue darts out to lick his lips and then it's Zach's turn to groan. Chris is lying there, knees bent and legs spread, his asshole even rosier than the flush on his chest is.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Zach leans over to drag his teeth along Chris's jawline. “Fucking gorgeous,” he growls into Chris's neck just below his ear, as he begins to push into Chris.

When he's finally buried to the hilt, Zach notices Chris has been inordinately quiet. He brushes Chris's hair out of his eyes. “Pine, I need to you breathe for me.” Chris lets out a shuddering breath, nearly a wheeze, but doesn't say anything. “You want to be good, don't you?”

Chris takes a deep breath – good – before answering. “Yeah, for you.” He sounds wrecked.

“And you are, baby,” Zach says, as he begins to move. He nuzzles Chris's neck. “So good for me.”

Connected like this, Zach can feel Chris's relief as he soaks it all in, so perfect for Zach.

–---------------------------------------------------

This is all new to Chris. Like the noise he'd just wanted to make, that he wasn't sure he's _ever_ wanted to make in his life before; like the dick he has in his ass and how much he enjoys the slight burn and intensity from the fullness; like the way Zach's undivided attention makes him feel like he could never want to be anywhere else. 

Zach rarely says anything he doesn't mean and neither does he give out compliments lightly, so his endless stream of praises now are making Chris feel so, so good. It's as though he's flying, never having to worry about falling, because that's how much he can trust Zach's word. Zach's all about accountability and authenticity, after all.

“I'm so hard,” Zach moans into his mouth, delivering sharp snaps with his hips and nailing Chris so hard he might be seeing sparks. Chris's dick is heavy in his own hand, and he can't seem to keep up a consistent rhythm, though it hardly matters. He's so close, now, hearing Zach's voice laced with fervor while he drowns Chris with adoration. “You feel that, Chris? You made my dick so hard. You did that, baby. It's all you.”

Suddenly, Chris is coming, his orgasm wrenching an unexpected shout from his lips as he spurts all over himself. _Fuck._ He presses his fingers hard into the muscles of Zach's back, barely clinging onto his own awareness as his hole clenches down hard around Zach, and then it's only a couple more forceful thrusts before Zach is reaching his own peak. 

Later on, when they're cleaned up, bone-tired and under the sheets, Chris comes to a conclusion: he kind of strangely likes the stickiness and that tell-tale smell of intimacy on another person. “This bed is too big,” he announces. Why are hotel beds always so big? Why is _this_ hotel bed so big? He shifts, snuggling up against Zach to get even closer, and abandoning his side of the bed entirely.

Zach snorts, but allows it, because apparently his generosity is boundless when it comes to sex. Or maybe it's Chris, but they have a lot to talk about before Chris can figure that one out. He feels hopeful. 

“Ah, a complaint I never thought I'd hear you make.” Zach sounds a little nasally, the way he does when he's in dire need of sleep. Chris feels warm in his gut.

“I'm a simple man at heart, Zachary,” Chris replies easily, with a yawn pressed to Zach's collarbone to mask his ridiculous grin.

And maybe those words about himself are truer than Chris has ever realized, because when Zach finally whispers, “Bravo, Christopher. Bravo,” into his hair with a thumb caressing his hipbone in the dark, he finds it's all he needs to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I posted this, oh my god.


End file.
